Philosophical Portraiture: George Santayana's “William James”
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limbo Núm. 40, 2020, pp. 43-61 issn: 0210-1602 Philosophical Portraiture: George Santayana’s “William James” Vincent M. Colapietro abstract In his sketch of William James, Arthur O. Lovejoy distinguishes between a portrait of the “man behind the philosophy” and “the man in the philosophy.” While Santayana certainly off ers in “William James” glimpses of the man behind the philosophy, he provides above all insights into the man in the writings. What is as remarkable —indeed, admirable— as anything else in this philosophical portrait is, despite deep temperamental diff erences, translated into sharp philosophical antipathies, Santayana’s portrait captures so much at the very centre of James’s vision. Th at is, “William James” is far more than an oblique self-portrait of the literary artist sketching, at a geographical and chronological distance, a portrait of his former colleague: it is truly a portrait of James, a profoundly insight one. Th e author of this essay on “William James” takes the occasion of writing about Santayana’s portrait as an opportunity also to refl ect upon the diffi cult art, especially when undertaken by a philosophical author of intense convictions, of philosophical portraiture. Key Words: Action; America; Emerson; expression; Lovejoy; philosophy; portraiture; Peirce Simposio sobre la historia de la filosofía de Santayana, ii 43 44 Vincent M. Colapietro resumen Arthur O. Lovejoy distingue, en su bosquejo de William James, entre el retrato del “hombre tras la fi losofía” y el “hombre en la fi losofía”. A la vez que Santayana ciertamente ofrece en su “William James” vislumbres del hombre tras la fi losofía, sobre todo aporta intuiciones del hombre en sus escritos. Lo que es tan destacable —lo admirable, en realidad— en su re- trato como todo lo demás, más allá de las profundas diferencias tempera- mentales que se traducen en agudas antipatías fi losófi cas, es que el retrato santayaniano captura por completo el centro mismo del punto de vista de James. Esto es, “William James” es mucho más que un autorretrato del ar- tista literato que bosqueje, desde la distancia geográfi ca y cronológica, un retrato de su antiguo colega: es realmente un retrato de James, profunda- mente intuitivo. El autor de este ensayo sobre “William James” aprovecha la ocasión de escribir sobre el retrato santayaniano como oportunidad para refl exionar también sobre el difícil arte del retrato fi losófi co, especialmen- te cuando es realizado por un autor fi losófi co de intensas convicciones. Palabras clave: acción, América, Emerson, expresión, Lovejoy, fi losofía, retrato, Peirce . Despite his disclaimer in the Preface to Character and Opinion in the United States,1 it would be worse than glib to claim that Santayana’s portrait of James discloses more about the artist than his subject. It would be inaccurate. Of course, Santayana’s “William James” is, as his invocation of Spinoza’s insight [Santayana (1920), p. v] implies, an oblique “self-portrait,” as are his essays on Royce, Emerson, Whitman, and other distinctively American authors.2 But “William James” is more than this. Friedrich Nietzsche might have been convinced that: “In the end one experiences only oneself ” [Nietzsche (1966), p. 152].3 Santayana himself might oft en seem to assert or imply such a stance, but at his best he strove to come to Philosophical Portraiture: George Santayana’s “William James” 45 terms with others in their irreducible otherness. It would certainly be ironic, indeed, tragically ironic, if an author who was so opposed to the egocentrism of America could not adequately distance himself from this tendency in his portraits of such distinctively American fi gures as Emerson, James, and Royce. He diligently strove however to come to terms with others. Beyond this, he succeeded better than most in approximating his goal. His intellectual humility borders on, if it does not spell over into, skepticism. His skepticism is, in turn, tied to an abiding sense of human fi nitude (being invincibly symbolic, our knowledge is never a literal grasp of reality; it is moreover always fragmentary; and, finally, it is ultimately rooted in something deeper than itself ).4 His painstaking practice of philosophical portraiture, nowhere more dramatically in evidence than in “William James,” however unmistakably discloses itself to be an art of more than self-disclosure. We catch illuminating glimpses of — truly arresting insights into — the subject, though of course always from the perspective of the artist. Th e dialectic of self and other is nowhere more revealingly enacted than in the attempt of this literary artist to do, from that individual’s unique angle of vision, the fullest justice to the multifaceted character of a philosophical personae.5 In most respects, Santayana was a master at such portraiture. We can learn from him not only about others but also about this art itself — and of course much about the temperament of the artist himself!6 What complicates this instance are several factors. First, there is the fact that Santayana left the us in 1912, while Character & Opinion was “composed of lectures originally addressed to British audiences” aft er his long sojourn in a country (1872-1912), where he always felt himself to be in exile [Lyon (1968), pp. xi-xv]. Second, the refl ections gathered in this volume are self-consciously those of one looking back as a European,7 who has recently returned to Europe (albeit Great Britain, not Spain or Italy), who is trying to assist a British audience come to a deeper understanding of what remained to those in that audience even aft er ww I a largely enigmatic culture Simposio sobre la historia de la filosofía de Santayana, ii 46 Vincent M. Colapietro (a culture at once intimately connected to, and distinctively diff erent from, British culture). Th e immediate objective of his lectures was to explain American thought and culture to a British audience, while the eventual purpose of the book which grew out of these lectures was to allow others, including Americans, to eavesdrop on what he said to that audience. Th e author is unapologetic about “preserving the tone and attitude of a detached observer” [Santayana (1920), p. v]. As he notes in other contexts, however, the possibility of such detachment is a function of other attachments, certainly not least of all attachments to traditions quite at odds with the dominant culture in the us. Santayana’s own relationship to the culture of the us is highlighted in the brief Preface in memorable ways, not least of all his admission, “Aft er all, it has been acquaintance with America and American philosophy that has chiefl y contributed to clear and settle my own mind” [Santayana (1920), p. vi. cf. in Santayana (1940), p. 603]. If we are to take him at his word, the clarifi cation and solidifi cation of his thought owed more to his time in the us and his engagement with thinkers such as James and Royce than to anything else. Protestant America in particular and presumably his philosophical colleagues at Harvard served as a foil for his Catholic sensibility and his philosophical orientation. Both this sensibility and this orientation acquired their edge because of his sojourn in the us and his intellectual engagement with colleagues who strenuously argued against so many of Santayana’s positions. No matter how attenuated was his relationship to the religion of his origin, Santayana in his sensibility died a Catholic. As Bertrand Russell reportedly once quipped regarding Santayana: “Th ere is [for this Catholic atheist] no God and His mother is Mary” [Levinson (1992), p. 294]). No matter how much Santayana stressed the role of action and the importance of experience, his philosophical orientation was committed to the traditional ideal of contemplative wisdom in ways the thought of James, Royce, and Dewey decidedly were not. His thought was a philosophical Philosophical Portraiture: George Santayana’s “William James” 47 naturalism of a contemplative cast, for his classicist appreciation yet creative appropriation of philosophical insights from various traditions, Eastern as well as Western,8 disposed him to seek, above all else, the consolations of understanding. While he was disposed to celebrate the pluralism so evident in the us (“Th is soil is propitious to every seed, and tares must needs to grow it” [Santayana (1920), p. viii], he was wistful about the possibility of certain possibilities being eliminated. Why should this soil “not also breed clear thinking, honest judgment, and rational happiness?” [ibid.]. He immediately acknowledges: “Th ese things are indeed not necessary to existence, and without them America can long remain rich and populous like many a barbarian land in the past” [ibid.]. Santayana’s “prayer” for America could not be fuller of unhistrionic poignancy and muted hope. If clearer thinking, more honest forms of intellectual judgment, and more deeply rooted possibilities of rational happiness do not fi nd a congenial soil in American culture, “its existence [i.e., the United States in its historical actuality] would be hounded like theirs, by falsity and remorse” [ibid.]. It would suff er the fate of “many a barbarian land in the past” [ibid.]. Th e irrepressible vitality and prodigious genius of American culture would, in the course of time, prove unable to counterbalance the inherent defects of an unregenerate barbarism [Preface]. Such at least was Santayana’s reading the fate of the culture so earnestly, but partially,9 refl ected by such fi gures as Emerson and James. Th is reading prompted a “prayer”: “May Heaven avert the omen, and make the new world a better world than the old!” He immediately observed: “In the classical and romantic tradition of Europe [i.e., in the Old World], love of which there is little, was supposed to be kindled by beauty” [ibid.].